I look around, feeling disoriented. I can hardly remember how I got here, let alone the fact that I’m supposed to be with Kimmie and Adam. I turn on the spot, while people rush past me on their way up and down Eighth Avenue, but I have no idea where to go or what to do.

“Mateo?” Uncle Jorge asks. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” I answer in a weak voice. “I’m here.”

“Where are you?”

“I—I’m in Midtown.”

“Can you come to the apartment?”

I nod to myself, but I don’t say anything. I suddenly remember that I was with my friends a minute ago, but I see no sign of them.

“Yeah,” I answer. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I hang up and turn toward the subway entrance, thinking I’ll text Kimmie and Adam later and explain that I had to leave. I’m about to head back down the steps when I hear my name being called.

“Matt?”

I lift my gaze to see both of my friends walking toward me with worried looks on their faces.

“What happened?” Kimmie asks. “You were right behind us, and all of a sudden you were gone.”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s just… something happened, and I need to go home.”

I’m hoping they’ll understand and just let me go. I don’t have time to waste. I need to get back to Uncle Jorge’s apartment. I need to be with Sophie.

Right away, I know they’re not going to budge that easily. Their faces shift from surprise, to anger, to pure disappointment.

“You can’t leave now,” Kimmie says. “We haven’t even gone to the first bar.”

“It’s not like I want to leave.”

“So don’t.”

“There’s somewhere I need to be. It’s important.”

“Then tell us,” Adam says. “Matt, what’s wrong?”

I can’t hold it in any longer. Something starts swelling up in my chest, and I know that a bomb is about to go off, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

“My dad is getting deported!” The words come out as a yell. People walking past us turn to stare at me, but no one lingers for long. They move away quickly, while Kimmie and Adam remain frozen, staring at me with identical blank looks on their faces. They don’t blink. They don’t say anything. I’m not even sure they’re breathing.

Kimmie is the first one to find her voice. “I thought your dad was from Texas.”

“Well, he’s not,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “He was born in Mexico. And he doesn’t have papers to be able to stay in the US.”